


the path of fire and fury

by lostnoise



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mad Max Fusion, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, F/F, Gen, Inspired by Mad Max Series (Movies), M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:21:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22390216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostnoise/pseuds/lostnoise
Summary: Steve and Dustin come back to the Metropolis to resupply and bunker down for a few days, maybe grab a proper bath and get some rest. Getting caught up in saving Billy Hargrove from being sold to the Thunderdome was never in the plan.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Dustin Henderson & Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley/Barbara "Barb" Holland, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A few things for those who aren’t familiar with the Mad Max movies: they are set in a post-apocalyptic world after nuclear war destroys the planet and turns it into a harsh, desert environment. Vehicles are the main transport between cities, and each city usually has different ways of running things/different rules. Water is scarce, plant-life is nonexistent outside of the oases that are cities. Gasoline is a prized commodity.
> 
> In this, Hawkins is now the Metropolis, and in addition to bartering being the main trading system, there are also small gears used in place of coins or currency. This story is only loosely set in the Mad Max universe - you’ll see that there are some obvious differences. To be fair, Mad Max is originally set in Australia and this takes place in the US.
> 
> Hopefully everything else is explained as the story progresses. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask!

Steve rolls into the Metropolis in the Junker in search of supplies. Gasoline and water are the two most expensive things in the known world, the two most bartered-for items outside of cities, and Steve doesn’t even bother pulling through the little villages in search of these two things because they’re not safe let alone trustworthy. Dustin’s mother had been trusting, was tricked into purchasing radiated water from one of these piles of rubble they called a town, and started a slow but decline before she passed away.

Some people could take more radiation exposure than others; everyone’s used to a small level of it, but too much is a death sentence.

He and Dustin had fashioned the Junker out of two discarded motorcycles, a half-demolished car they’d salvaged from the desert, and some trinkets that they hung from the ceiling that jingled softly when they drove. Dustin had somehow rigged the two engines to start simultaneously. The engineering it had taken to do so is still beyond Steve’s capability to understand. They’d saved most of the frame of the car, as well - hood, roof, and trunk - and the back seat, too.

It is what it’s called: a heap of junk which they’d somehow transformed into a usable vehicle.

When he stops at the front of the stables, he grabs the keys out of the ignition and reaches over to shake Dustin awake.

“C’mon, Dusty, we’re here,” Steve says, licking his chapped lips and pulling himself out of the open side. He has the keys in hand, tucks them into the front pocket of his denim pants, and zips it closed. “Or do you want to stay and watch the Junker?”

Dustin grumbles and climbs out, stretching and then rubbing at his eyes sleepily. Desert travel takes a lot out of you, but they’d pilfered a decent enough haul to be able to trade and sell, so they’ll be stocked up on supplies. Dustin likes to be there for the haggling because Steve doesn’t take any nonsense. Driving and haggling - and beating the shit out of things with his trusty nail bat - is what he’s best at. Dustin’s good at picking out what they need, taking a mental inventory, and directing Steve so he doesn’t buy ten cans of shredded spinach again.

Steve, reluctantly, agrees that he’d made a bad decision that day.

He grabs his leather satchel from the back and throws it into Dustin’s chest. Then Steve grabs the banged-up hand trolley, straps in the heavy case carrying all of their finds from the desert, then ties down their empty jugs of water and big green jerrycans. Water and gasoline: always needed, not always in ready supply.

Dustin shoulders the satchel that carries their ID-Metals, their gears, and personal items like the stuffed bear Dustin’s mother made for him before she passed, and the worn out map Steve’s father gave him when Steve left the first time. The map has been invaluable for navigating the desert in their shitty Junker - Steve’s been able to get them out of more than one right spot because of it. Then Dustin grabs their weapons, Steve’s nail bat and his own crowbar. It’s better not to leave anything of value in their vehicle, lest anyone be tempted to steal them.

The sign on the street promises that the Stablemaster is responsible for the _vehicle_ , not the items contained therein.

Steve checks the Junker in with the Stablemaster, forking over gears with a roll of his eyes with Dustin grumbling in his ear.

“Why didn’t you haggle with him?” he asks once they’re out of earshot of the sun-baked sleaze-ball.

“You don’t haggle with the Stablemaster, Dusty, or he’ll impound your vehicle and sell it for parts.”

“No parts’ll be sellable off the Junker,” Dustin mumbles, lisping where his teeth still haven’t come in. “You’d have to tear that shit apart in all the wrong ways. We barely got it working ourselves!”

“You know that,” Steve says, grunting when he has to push the trolley over a particularly stubborn stone on the dirt road leading to the Barter Depot. “And I know that. The Stablemaster, however, does not know that.”

“How can he even have the power to do that?”

“The Queen,” Steve says simply.

Dustin glares and stomps ahead to the Barter Depot. It’s more of an indoor marketplace, giant fans hanging from the ceiling to ensure some level of air circulation even if it’s still sweaty. The entirety of the Depot is familiar in a way that almost feels like home - the orange glow of the bare lightbulbs hanging from black cables draped above in an intricate web that somehow remains usable, the alternating smells of rancid and savory and sweet from the various vendors, the hustle and bustle of people wearing rags and leather and denim and cotton. Steve loves the Depot.

Dustin pulls out a cloth to tie over his nose and mouth because he, unlike Steve, hates and has always hated the Depot.

They head first to the parts dealer so as to lighten the load on the trolley before adding the extra weight of liquids. This dealer, Pock, has been working the Depot since Steve can remember and he’s always trying to shortchange them for the parts they manage to get. It worked the first few times, before Steve and Dustin knew better, but now Steve stands firm and doesn’t back down when Pock tries to give him ten gears less for the gears they’d scrounged from a broken down car two miles east. Once they’ve parted with half the parts, the ones they knew only Pock would take, they part ways with a friendly handshake apiece. Pock isn’t actually a bad guy outside of haggling, and Steve and Dustin are on good terms with him.

Then again, Steve and Dustin make sure to stay on good terms with everyone at the Depot. Making enemies can be a matter of life or death.

Next, they head to several food stalls, trading for cans of food and, at Dustin’s insistence, fresh meat pies as a treat for coming back to the Metropolis in one piece. They’re pretty much out of parts and Dustin has to carry the weapons in one hand, one of the jerrycans in another, because Steve knows the gasoline will make their load heavier. When they get to the gas dealer, he smiles softly.

“Hey Rob,” he greets one of his only friends left in the world. “Long time, no see.”

“Hey dingus,” she greets with an eye roll, but Steve knows it’s pure fondness in the gesture. Robin took over selling gasoline for her father after the man broke his leg and the bone never set properly. She'd grown up in the Depot, always underfoot, and she knows the business like the back of her hand. She’s impressive and Steve loves her like a sister. “And hey there, Dustbowl. Haven’t killed the prince yet?”

Steve winces at that, but Dustin just laughs and gives her a knowing look. “It’s been touch and go for a while.”

“You liar,” Steve says, mock-offended. He and Dustin are two peas in a pod, and even if they bicker, they’ve never actually gotten into a fight. He turns back to Robin, leans against the counter. It takes some of the pressure off of his sore feet. “How’s Barb?”

“Barbara is good,” Robin replies, and her eyes light up with pride at the mention of her wife. “She’s working on a new dress for the Queen, in fact. She’s really excited because she can play around with those plastic parts she bought from you last time you were in town.”

Barbara and Robin were both only seventeen cycles in age, but had married last cycle because they’re so inseparable, have been since they met at age ten. Steve and Dustin had taken a break from desert requisition to attend the nuptials. He didn’t even complain about seeing the ex-love-of-his-life, Nancy, with her new partner in crime. Jonathan’s a little creepy but overall he’s a great guy. Steve just doesn’t like being around Nancy for longer than necessary.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that they’re not going to waste,” Steve replies diplomatically.

“Have you even seen your mother yet?” Robin’s arms cross over her chest as she asks this, and Steve winces again, caught out for being a bad son. She rolls her eyes once more and shakes her head. “You’re an idiot.”

“I know, I know. But we needed to restock. It’s not like I can leave all of our parts in the Junker.”

“You can’t leave all of your supplies in there, either.”

“Well…” Steve smiles charmingly, leaning his hip against the counter. “I was hoping you could watch them when I go to visit her?”

Robin squawks in a way that Steve and Dustin have both gotten used to, but the other vendors’ eyes snap over to see what the commotion is about. She huffs and gives him the stink-eye. “You’re lucky I like you.”

He laughs, leans in to kiss her forehead. “Yeah, yeah, the luckiest.”

Dustin and Steve part ways with Robin, promising to have dinner with her and Barb tonight.

They still have the water jugs in hand, left the now-filled jerrycans and the case with Robin, took the trolley to meet Newt, the water vendor. Meeting Newt is always a crapshoot. Sometimes they have plenty of water and the price is low to drive sales, sometimes they have plenty and price it high for the fun of watching people rifle through their pockets to find every last gear they could. Sometimes Newt has no gas at all, and they cackle in amusement when people start to beg.

Today, it’s the latter.

“All out today, prince,” they say, and Steve scoffs at the name.

“Don’t call me that,” he says, then turns his best pleading expression to them. “Please, Newt? You don’t have *any* left?”

“Queen only gives me so much. You can always go beg her for water.”

Steve huffs and stomps away, navigating through the stalls of the Depot with practiced ease.

“You know what we have to do,” Dustin calls out as he trails behind him.

“I know,” Steve says from behind gritted teeth. He finally stops by a pillar and leans against it, rubs his temples and then the space between his eyes.

“It won’t be that bad, Steve.”

“I know,” he says, sighing. “I just don’t want to rely on her.”

“She wants you to rely on her, though. She’s more than happy to help you when you need help.”

“The whole reason I left home was so I didn't _need_ her help!”

“And yet,” Dustin says, arms sweeping out to gesture to their current situation. “Here we are, needing her help.”

Steve is silent for a moment as he weighs all of his options.

“Steve-”

“Okay,” he groans, flopping his head against the pillar. He quells the urge to bash it against the cement. “Okay. We’ll go see her.”

No need to hurt himself because he has to go see his mother, the Queen of Metropolis.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some things of note for world-building purposes:
> 
> Metropolis is based loosely on Bartertown from Mad Max: Beyond the Thunderdome. The Thunderdome, in the world of this story, is unique to Metropolis. It is essentially a giant dome of a prison with underground cells beneath the structure. Prisoners, including people sold to the Thunderdome, are oftentimes pitted against each other to fight to the death with a range of weapons to choose from. The victor wins his freedom.
> 
> "Goon(s)" and "merc(s)" are slang for mercenaries. In this world, there are two types - general goons who are allowed passage through most cities, and city-specific goons trained by and obeying only the rulers of their city. Mercenary work is illegal in Metropolis.

The Queen’s palace is the least worn-down building in the city, standing high atop the rocky enclave that protected the Metropolis from the whipping winds and sandstorms that plagued the desert surrounding them. It also sits atop the natural spring that provides the citizens with water. The Queen is in charge of everything - commerce, protection, law and order, rations, even gasoline and especially water. What she says is law.

Steve doesn’t like to visit if he doesn’t have to. His mother makes a huge ordeal of it, demanding her cook to prepare a feast (as if there aren’t people in the Metropolis struggling to make ends meet just for a bite of food) and breaking out the wine. Dustin loves it, of course. He lost his father before he’d been born, lost his mother more recently, and with the Queen fussing over them both, it felt doting in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

But Steve can’t _stand_ the pomp and circumstance. It’s why he left his royal duties in the first place.

When they arrive at the palace, the guards at the gates give them disparaging looks and nearly don’t allow them in until Steve demands to see High Advisor Sinclair. Steve didn’t think he’d been gone THAT long that the guards turnover meant that he goes unrecognized, but he is, barred from his childhood home. Dustin can’t help grumbling under his breath and it makes Steve fight back a smile.

The High Advisor appears a few minutes later while the guards glare and make rude comments about trespassers. High Advisor Sinclair gives them the dirtiest look he can muster.

”Bleeding amateurs,” the man curses, rolling his eyes. “This is the Prince, you idiots.”

For their part, the guards look properly chastised and let Steve and Dustin pass without another word. In the Front Hall, Sinclair gives Steve a welcoming pat on the shoulder, gives Dustin a big hug. Steve sort of wishes he weren’t royalty, wishes that people weren’t afraid to touch him.

“Lucas has been wondering when the two of you would be back,” he tells them, leading them through the winding passages of the palace. Steve knows the layout by heart; in his youth, he walked the halls and staircases more times than he could ever count. “How was the salvage this time?”

“Actually decent,” Steve replies, climbing the last staircase that will take them to the Queen’s throne room where she takes an audience. Sinclair was a generally amiable man, dark-skinned with a big smile, and always supported Steve’s ambitions to be away from the Court. “It’s been slim pickings the last couple times we went out, but there must have been a fight or something near Oiltown a while ago.”

“Mm,” Sinclair hums. He sounds like he’d expected that. “Metal City has been having a lot of problems with Oiltown.”

That explained a lot, actually. Dustin had taken apart the wreckage they’d found quickly enough, both of them working in the cover of late evening, just before dusk, with sunset barley peeking over the horizon. They’d scavenged several cars and some bikes, too, grabbing parts and pieces to upgrade the Junker as well as to sell at market. Given the scarcity of parts in the desert, and that this little oasis had been seemingly handed to them on a silver platter, Steve has been keeping his eyes open just in case someone gets the bright idea to attack Dustin and him.

“Do we know anything?” Steve asks in a low voice. He exchanges looks with Dustin, who’s obviously thinking along the same lines as Steve is.

Sinclair takes a deep breath and levels Steve with a look. “We do. You should ask your mother.” Then, he opens the door to the Audience Room.

It’s not quite a throne room the way other cities may have; Steve’s mother had never been too ostentatious. The Audience Room is humble, large enough to accommodate the regulars of the Court and groups of people who need an audience with her. The ceiling is neither too high nor too short; it simply looks like a normal hall. A large window looks out over the rest of the Metropolis across from the throne. Next to the throne is the microphone that connects to the speaker system all around the Metropolis for special announcements or proclamations. Her “throne” is a simple high-backed chair with arms, all black leather and real wood. It’s extravagant in the way that wood is rare these days, as trees don’t grow wild anymore. And on the throne sat the Queen.

“Steven!” she coos, standing and hurrying over to him. Her dress today was long and light gray, pooling at her feet and causing her to look as though she glides across the ground. She presses a kiss to his cheek, hugs him close, then bends to do the same to Dustin. Dustin’s getting taller, but he’s not quite tall enough for the Queen not to stoop a bit. “And oh, how lovely to see you too, Dusty. I am quite pleased that you’ve returned intact. No parts missing, I presume?”

“None that we weren’t missing before we left,” Dustin jokes, giving the Queen a sweet smile that she returns.

The Queen loves Dustin. Had loved his mother, too. Mrs. Henderson had been the Court’s Salvage Master when such a title was still in use; she had been his father’s closest friend. It’s how Dustin is so good at what he does, and how Steve became interested in salvage work in the first place. One wrong water vendor and her slow decline still haunts Steve and his young companion to this day. It’s why his father had mandated the use of radiation detectors for all water, had implemented harsh punishments for unlicensed vendors selling contaminated water.

Steve looks around the Court; it’s just the usual cast of characters Steve has grown up knowing. They make up the closest positions to the Queen, the most loyal to her crown, and some of the most important and powerful roles in the Metropolis. Dustin excuses himself to greet Lucas and Erica, and Steve at first makes to do the same, only to be stayed by his mother’s hand on his arm.

“Walk with me,” she says softly. Steve nods. They head for the balcony, sliding the large glass door open and stepping out into the heat of the late afternoon. Opening his mouth, Steve doesn’t know what kind of small talk he’s about to make because his mother cuts him off. “Avoid Metal City and Oiltown if you can, my son. There is much strife between them, and I am afraid that any wrong move may turn their eyes on _us_ instead.”

Steve winces, thinking of the cars they’d butchered for parts and sold at the Depot, the upgrades they’d planned to make to the Junker. Well, Steve always makes sure they cover their tracks, and did so this time as well. “What made them fight?”

The Queen looks over her shoulder to the open door, peers inside to see how closely the Court is paying them any mind.

“Only Lord Sinclair knows of this… There is a rumor that Oiltown is refining a new gasoline,” she says in a hushed tone. Steve leans closer to listen. “Their ruler, Emperor Inglorious, is hiding the new formula and Metal City is demanding answers. Apparently, the new formula doesn’t use much gasoline, is easier on engines, and takes much less to run much farther. Such a commodity is invaluable.”

Steve nods his understanding. “But… mother, if it’s just a rumor, why would they fight like that?”

“It is Metal City that was defeated. That had been the ambassador’s caravan, in an attempt to negotiate a trade. Oiltown refused,” the Queen explains. She grips Steve’s arm a little tighter. “Promise me, son, promise me that you will keep yourself and Dusty safe from these fights.”

Steve opens his mouth to reply, his eyes wide, because what is he supposed to say in return? Does he confess to filching parts from the caravan to sell them or otherwise use them on the Junker?

A loud cry from within the Audience Room echoes out into the balcony, causing Steve and the Queen to turn simultaneously with twin looks of confusion. “Your majesty, I require an audience at once!”

They hurry back in, Steve closing the door as his mother attends to her post. The moment is broken, and the Queen must return to her duties as usual.

Steve is able to finally greet the Sinclairs, a smile on his face as he is hugged by Lady Sinclair and then exchanges a complicated handshake with Erica. Lucas and Dustin are already clowning around on the edge of the room, near the door, and he raises an eyebrow at Erica.

“Ask your parents if you can come with us to Robin’s for dinner,” he whispers, waggling his eyebrows. Erica loves Robin and Barb, thinks they’re much smarter than the rest of the boys they hang around. She’s not entirely wrong, either. “I’m sure they’re expecting the whole herd to come since me and Dustin are home now.”

Erica snickers. “They’re gonna kill you in your sleep,” she chides him quietly, her voice taking a song-like lilt from her teasing. Dustin’s his favorite of all the kids that he has in his circle of friends, but Erica comes in at a close second.

She still asks her parents, who look at Steve’s pleading, puppy dog eyes, then sigh with resignation before nodding their approval. The Metropolis is only dangerous in certain areas, and they’re not going to any of them tonight.

They head to the Depot first to help Robin close up the stall, and Dustin and Steve grabbing their things before carting them to Robin’s and Barb’s place.

Robin and Barb own a little two-bedroom flat in the North Quarter not far from the Depot or the Stablemaster. Dustin and Steve usually crash there, sharing the tiny spare bedroom. When they arrive and clamber into the apparently loudly, Barb groans (as if she wasn’t expecting Dustin and Steve to drag along Lucas and Erica from Court) but ushers them in, pours them all a small glass of water. She returns to the kitchen, wrapping up dinner that will no doubt feed the little herd they’d managed to acquire - a chosen family filled with friendly faces.

As if on cue, there comes a knock at the door.

Robin is the one to groan now as she opens the door and reveals Mike holding Holly’s hand, leading her inside, and chatting animatedly with Will on his other side.

They’re all settling in, halfway through the meal, when rapid knocks ring throughout the little apartment, louder than even their raucous chatter as they all play catch up. Steve glances at Dustin, the two of them sharing a look loaded with meaning that only the two of them can read. Spending so much time together, day in and day out, salvaging parts and trading for supplies, gave way to a tight bond between them.

“Maybe it’s Max,” Lucas says excitedly, peeking up as Robin outright laughs along with Erica, both of them pointing at him in utter hilarity, and Barb pushes at Robin’s shoulder in amused irritation before she goes to answer the door.

A girl with long red hair pushes in, looking haggard and dirty. “You’ve got to help me,” she pleads. Steve’s never seen her a day in his life and is really, really confused. “It’s Billy, he… he got in trouble and got taken to the Thunderdome!”

“Shit, Max, the _Thunderdome_?!”

“He tracked the goon from the fight to the Thunderdome!” she cries out and her small fingers tear through her hair in her anxiety. “He’s gone and gotten himself thrown in there to track him down and kill him!”

“That’s one way to do it,” Robin mutters, shaking her head and rolling her eyes like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. Steve can’t either, but he feels very left out of the loop.

“Uh,” he pipes up, sharing another pointed look with Dustin. “Sorry to interrupt but what the hell is going on?”

“This is Max-”

“Lucas’s girlfriend,” Erica teases, and Lucas rolls his eyes and scoffs at her for cutting him off during his introduction.

“Billy is her older brother,” Robin offers, rubbing at her arms. It’s a tell-tale sign that she’s feeling anxious, which makes Steve anxious, and he needs more answers. “They came here about a month ago, and Max saved Lucas from getting pick-pocketed. They’re from Metal City.”

Metal City, again. Fuck.

“Who’s this guy?” Max asks, giving him a glare that would make lesser beings wither. For what it’s worth, Steve squirms in his seat.

“This is Steve,” Lucas replies, then points to Dustin. “And that’s Dustin. They’re salvagers.”

Max smiles gently, tears in her eyes. “That’s what me and Billy do,” she says gently.

“Steve,” Barb calls out softly, turning her big, pleading eyes on him. He hates her a little bit because she knows he’ll do just about anything when she gives him that look. Maybe it’s the glasses. More likely, it’s because Barb never fell for his charmer bullshit or bought the Prince Steve facade like so many others had. “There’s gotta be something you can do.”

And Steve… Steve just sighs, because fuck, all he wanted to do when he got to Metropolis was fucking lay low and regroup and rest up. Make upgrades to the Junker. Now he’s involved in some plot for revenge on a _goon_. “What kind of goon are we talking? Normal merc, or a city special?”

“Oiltown goon.” Max shakes her head. “Can you really help us?”

“He’s the Prince,” Will tells her, all matter-of-factly, and Max’s eyes get big.

“I have to speak with you,” she says immediately, cutting Steve off from being able to correct Will. “In private.”

Steve looks at his half-finished plate of food, looks at the anxious faces staring at him from around the room. There’s not enough space at any table to house them all, not in this tiny apartment, so they’re spread out in various seats. All their eyes are on him, waiting for him to answer.

He wipes his mouth, takes a gulp of water, and nods. “Max, let's take this outside.”

He follows her out, shuts the front door for some privacy even if now they’re out in the dwindling sunlight, the cool nighttime air blowing in from the desert. “Tell me, and be truthful. What’s going _on_?”

“Prince Steven,” she breathes, inhaling sharply like she’s trying to gather her courage. “I am the daughter of the late Susan Mayfield, Ambassador of Metal City. Billy and I were accompanying her on her political visit since we were between jobs. When we got there, the Emperor was acting so strangely. He’s already weird enough with the whole face-mask and blue skin, right? But he kept saying these little bits of information about our lives, like he had someone spying on us. Talked about my collection of shells, and Billy’s necklace. And then… then my mother’s caravan was attacked by Oiltown goons on our way back to Metal City. We were the only survivors besides the goon he tracked down.”

“Why does he need to track down this goon? If he’s at the Thunderdome, he can’t get out. They’ll both be stuck there unless they win a trial by combat or-”

“Or get bought by a Donor,” Max finishes for him. “There’s a rumor going around Metal City, Prince. A rumor about a wealthy citizen here in Metropolis who has strong ties to Oiltown.”

“There’s no one here who would-”

But Steve is wrong, because there is someone in Metropolis who would commit that level of treason. Fucking hell. He’s the creepiest person in the whole city, and somehow every time Steve is in town, this guy manages to pop up out of nowhere. Requesting audiences with his mother, or running into Steve and Dustin at the Depot, or even worse, the time when he cornered Steve at the noodle bar when Dustin was spending time with Lucas and Mike and Will. “ _Fuck_.”

“So _do_ you know him,” Max whispers. Steve nods, spits off the balcony for having to even say the dickhead’s name.

“Dr. Brenner.”

“He’s gonna smuggle the goon out of Metropolis and back to Oiltown. My mom found something there... Billy won’t tell me, but he knows what it is and has to keep the goon from meeting this… Dr. Brenner guy. We’ve been stuck here without a vehicle and trying to find the last goon.”

Steve sighs and rubs his forehead. He has an inheritance that will keep him solidly taken care of for the rest of his life but he hates touching it. Hates thinking about the giant stash in one of the vaults in the palace. Salvage work is his life and he does well by himself with it. Does well by Dustin, too. Now he has to talk to his mom about opening it so he can buy some girl’s brother out of the Thunderdome if someone doesn’t demand a trial by combat first. Could be Billy himself, for all Steve knew. He sighs again.

“I know a guy,” he starts, groaning when Max lights up and like, throws her arms around him to _hug_ him, then catches herself and shoves him away like the hug was _Steve’s_ idea. “The fuck, Mad Max?”

She twists her lips to hide a smile and he feels himself soften a little.

“We have to get a move on, then. Once it gets too late around the Thunderdome, the bookies come out to make bets and draw all sorts of scum out of the woodwork.” Steve sighs and takes mental stock of his own weapons hidden in his bags. “And don’t call me Prince, okay? Just call me Steve.” He pauses. “We better let the others know.”

“We’re going there? Now? You’re gonna save him from the Thunderdome, Steve?”

“Well, Max,” Steve says, pushing the goggles around his neck up to keep his hair out of his eyes. “I’m gonna try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment or kudo if you enjoyed! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Steve has to fight with everyone to stay with Barb while he takes Robin, Dustin, and Max to the Thunderdome. Lucas in particular wants to come, wants to protect his new girlfriend, but Steve denies it on the grounds that Lady Sinclair would literally kill him with her bare hands if Lucas or Erica got into any trouble because of Steve. Barb promises to ring the palace if she needs help wrangling them back.

“Why does _he_ get to come and not Lucas?” Max demands, jerking her thumb towards Dustin who scoffs.

“Because _I_ am Steve’s best friend,” Dustin tosses back, elbowing Steve in the side as they hustle down the dusty streets towards the Thunderdome. Steve pushes him back, trying to focus on how to barter with the Chief for Billy’s life. First, he has to make sure that this Billy guy hasn’t done anything too stupid to get thrown into the Thunderdome; then he has to make sure Billy isn’t dead or set for combat yet. Then… then he has to ask about the other prisoner, the one Billy went in after in the first place. Maybe the Chief can give him some information if Brenner has bought anyone yet. “And I’m a lot more help than Lucas in these situations.”

“He’s got a point, Mad Max,” Robin tells her, voice amused even if her face is just as determined as Steve’s. “Dustin’s a salvager. You know how that is. It takes a lot of knowledge and ingenuity and quick-thinking.”

“Lucas is quick-thinking,” Max mumbles, trying not to let her pout be too obvious. But Steve snorts when he hears it.

She’s a brat and Steve likes her already.

“Is your brother any good at fighting?” Steve asks, making conversation. He’s hurrying, but slows down when he notices that Dustin’s struggling a little to keep up. They’ve had a long day and Steve didn’t even get to eat before Max showed up asking for help.

“He’s a fucking _beast_ ,” Max says so proudly, her lips pulled into a smug grin, that Steve can’t help how he smiles and shakes his head. “He’s known in Metal City. We might be salvagers but we weren’t always. He used to be a Fighter.”

Metal City is known for its Fighting Pits; they’re a popular pastime, as popular as the Thunderdome’s fights are in Metropolis. Steve has been to Metal City exactly three times in his life, and had gone to the fighting pits only once, with Dustin, about two years ago because Dustin had been so curious and bugged Steve until he caved and forked over the ten gears the Pit Master to get seats in the stands. All the Fighters had these dumb names, probably trying to sound intimidating and garner larger bets to make more money. Steve watched someone called the “Mind Flayer” punch a guy until his face became a broken, bloody mess. He couldn’t have been much older than Steve if he was older at all. And the Flayer had looked crazed after the fight - all wide, wild eyes and this manic grin that split white across his otherwise blood-splattered skin. Nose bleeding. Bruises across his bare torso. Even the curls piled on top of his head and twisted into a bun had been a complete mess, locks falling out into his face and stained red from the fight.

Steve will never forget that particular Fighter.

“Well, if your brother is any good at fighting, let’s hope it saves his ass when he pulls a dumb move,” Steve mutters from the side of his mouth. He says when, not if, because, “Heaven knows no one goes to the Thunderdome voluntarily.”

The sun is low in the sky but they still have time before it gets late enough to be concerned. He checks his pockets for the thousandth time to make sure he has his knives and his gun. He’d dug them out of his luggage back at the apartment. Metropolis is one of the safer cities, but that doesn’t mean that it’s a good idea to go around unarmed. He’s even taught Dustin how to defend himself, knows Robin has all the kids armed with knives since Steve is constantly worried about Mike and Holly, though he’ll never admit to the former out loud.

At the opposite end of Metropolis from the palace sits the Thunderdome. It’s an imposing structure crafted from twisted metal that forms a sort of webbed cage, ladders and stairs climbing around it for people to climb and watch the fights inside, or to otherwise bid on the prisoners. Underneath the massive dome are underground prison cells where the prisoners are kept until their trial by combat or until they’re sold to the highest bidder. Steve’s been to the Thunderdome many times, has seen the cells, is on good terms with the Chief of the Thunderdome, Jim Hopper. Hopper had been close friends with Steve’s father, is still close with the Queen for obvious reasons; Hopper Steve just has his fingers crossed that Hopper will be able to do something, bend rules or give him the kind of information Steve needs to keep Max safe.

Why does he want to keep some girl who he just met that day safe? Steve blames his mother-hen instincts, as Dustin calls them. He doesn’t like that phrase, because he’s not a _mother_ , but he does tend to fuss over the kids and in general he enjoys taking care of people. It’s why he and Dustin work so well together; Dustin is smart enough to take care of himself in all the ways that help them survive as salvagers, whereas Steve takes care of the rest. Makes sure they have gas and water and food to eat, makes sure they have enough gears to get by.

He’s good at taking care of people. It’s one of his few skills, and Steve is proud that he can do that for people.

They finally arrive at the Thunderdome and Steve doesn’t pause in his journey when Max slows to regard it with wide eyes and an awed look on her face. Robin hangs behind and ushers her on while Steve heads to the little shack stationed across from the prison. Hopper’s shack is pure cement, not the metal sheeting some people opt for, and all the windows are barred. It looks abandoned, or at least as though no one inside would want company, but Steve pounds his fist loudly and rapidly on the door.

“Okay, okay, okay, I’m coming,” comes a grumble from inside and soon enough the door is spotting open, safety chains in place. Steve counts five, and maybe if he didn’t know Hopper better he’d think that’s an excessive number, but with the bookies and betters and buyers alike, Hopper needs all the protection he can get. “Steve? I didn’t realize it was that time of the month. Welcome home.” Hopper looks behind him to see the company he’d brought, narrows his eye at Max. “Who’s the new kid?”

“Lucas’s new girlfriend, a salvager from Metal City,” Steve explains, licking his lips. “We need your help.”

Hopper sighs, leans his forehead against the door jam, and then shrugs and shuts the door.

“Is he seriously turning us away?” Max hisses from behind him.

Steve rolls his eyes at her when he hears the safety chains being thrown off before the door swings open. Hopper steps back and gestures for them to come in.

Once the door is firmly secured behind them, Hopper leads them to the sitting area that shares space with the kitchen. There are two doors that ostensibly lead to a bathroom and a bedroom, though Steve’s never seen what lies behind them. Steve chooses to stay standing and adopts a similar pose to Hopper’s with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Does this have anything to do with the kid I picked up today for stealing water?”

Steve, Robin, and Dustin visibly cringe. They hadn’t been aware of what crime Billy committed to get thrown into the Thunderdome, but stealing water is one of the highest crimes in Metropolis.

“Billy sure knows how to pick his crime,” Robin mutters, shooting Max a look to which the younger girl shrugs.

Hopper sighs long and loud, ending it in a groan. “Why do you have to bring this trouble to my doorstep?”

“It gets worse,” Steve tells him, chewing at his lower lip.

Hopper pauses, arms tightening over his chest. “Okay…”

“It’s my fault,” Max confesses, hair falling like a curtain around her face. “My mom… my mom was the ambassador for Metal City. Emperor Imperious was- he was trying to… to take my hand in marriage. He was trying to trade me for a trade secret Metal City needed my mom to get.” She shifts uncomfortably on the couch, and Robin puts an encouraging arm around her shoulders. “My mom refused. Imperious is _insane_. But more than that, Billy went snooping and found something out, told my mom, and our caravan was ambushed by Oiltown goons on our way home. Billy and I were the only survivors besides the goon we tracked here. No one in Oiltown can know that we’re still alive, that anyone alive knows… something.”

“There are so many rumors about Oiltown coming to light, Hop,” Steve admits, recalling the conversation he’d had with his mother. “They have some process to make gas last longer and is easier on engines. And there are rumors of a wealthy man in the city who’s in league with Oiltown. A man who would be seeking to become the goon’s Donor so he can be smuggled back to Oiltown.”

“Brenner,” Hopper growls, teeth gritted in anger.

“If he’s in league with Oiltown,” Steve starts, rubbing at his own arms much in the same way Robin does when she’s anxious. Steve probably picked up the habit from her. “If he knows anything about the process, if he’s _helping_ another city, Hop…”

“He could take down all of Metropolis,” Hopper finishes for him.

The whole room takes a grim turn, like a bleak blanket is cast over their little group and takes out all the oxygen. Steve can’t think about Metropolis falling. Even though he wants no part of ruling the city, it’s his _home_.

“Kid hasn’t demanded a trial by combat and he hasn’t been bought yet, either.” Hopper rubs at his chin thoughtfully. “You can buy him and try to get back to Metal City.”

“What about the Oiltown goon?”

Hopper grimaces. “Brenner bought him yesterday. He’s coming by today to retrieve the guy.”

“What’s the price on Billy’s head?” Steve asks, trying to juggle all the pieces at once. That’s usually more Dustin’s wheelhouse, but surprisingly Steve doesn’t completely suck at strategy.

“A thousand gears.”

“Fucking hell, stealing water is _that bad_ in Metropolis?!” Max complains, her blue eyes wide and confused.

“We only have one spring that the Queen controls,” Steve explains to her. He glances over at Dustin who ducks his head down. “Stealing water is only a lesser crime than tampering with water or selling contaminated water. The amount of people who have… have died from radiated water… it’s a crime for a reason.”

Steve clenches his teeth and looks away, Robin looks mournful, Dustin can’t look up from his lap. Hopper just seems vaguely uncomfortable from even the inference of feelings involved. Everyone knew Dustin’s mother. Except, of course, for Max.

Hopper breaks the silence. “So… should I mark you down as a Donor or what?”

“Yes,” Steve says immediately and starts calculating how to get the gears together. He’s going to have to tap the vault. Fuck. “I’ll be back with the gears tonight.”

And that’s when the alarm for the Thunderdome sounds.

“Christ,” Hopper groans. He rubs a hand down his face, exasperation written in every wrinkle and shadow of it, and Steve winces in sympathy. “I hope this is another one of Callahan’s false alarms.”

No one comments on that because they all know Callahan doesn’t have false alarms. And there’s too much coincidence going on right now, what with Brenner and the goon and Billy all connected to the Thunderdome, the rumors and the wreckage of the caravan they’d seen, for it not to be related.

Hopper shrugs on a bulletproof vest, a leather jacket, and his wide-brimmed hat with his badge on the front proclaiming him the Chief of the Thunderdome. “Well, you might as well come along,” he says gruffly, then turns and opens the door and gestures them out of his house. “I know you’ll want to see your brother, at least.”

Gruff but kind. Steve fights back a smile and sees Robin doing the same, but Max and Dustin aim their bright smiles right at Hopper and Steve can practically see the Chief melt. God, Hopper is such a softy underneath his rough exterior.

~

When Hopper leads them in, Florence is arriving for her shift to take bids from Donors and taking bets from the bookies. She seems flustered when she spots Steve - the last time Steve had seen Florence, he was still a prince. The alarm has since been turned off, and when the five of them arrive in the security room, Callahan is in a tizzy as he mutters to himself and flicks through camera feeds on tiny black and white screens.

“What’s the problem?” Hopper asks immediately when he strides into the room. “Where’s Powell?”

“He’s with McGrady and George cleaning up after the fight,” Callahan explains, still flicking through feeds. “That creepy Brenner guy’s chosen, the merc? He got into that new guy’s cell.”

“What happened?” Hopper grits his teeth as he asks, and Steve puts a hand on Max’s shoulder when she holds her breath. Her eyes are wet and glassy, nervous to hear the rest of the sentence. Steve can’t help but wonder if Billy died.

Callahan, still distracted by the video feeds, makes a noise in agreement. “That’s what I’m trying to find out,” he says, blinking and looking closer at one monitor. Then, he snaps his fingers and his mouth drops open. “Fuck… fuck! That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

“How the goon got into the new guy’s cell! There’s this…” Callahan gestures to the screen he’s looking at. “I don’t know _what_ it is. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

Hopper scoffs and stalks over, squints are the screen, and Steve watches as Hopper’s mouth drops open. “What the shit _is_ that? Some sort of… magic doorway?”

“A portal?!” Dustin cries out, eyes going wide and curious and he runs over to where all the monitors are set up. Max rushes over too, needing to know what’s going on with her brother. Robin and Steve share a look, deciding on whether they should bother looking too. “Fuck yeah, that’s a portal! Oh my god, Steve, look at this portal!”

Steve sighs, hears it echo in Hopper, and begrudgingly comes over to look. It looks like a… magic doorway, a split in space that leads back to the goon’s cell. The goon steps through the portal and it closes behind him, leaving him in the cell with the other prisoner.

“It’s Billy,” Max whispers, face frightened. Callahan hasn’t told them the outcome of the fight, after all.

But when the goon brings out some sort of shiv, Billy goes into a rage. The movements seem so familiar, but it’s not until Billy looks at the camera outside of his cell, licks at his teeth and grins, when it clicks.

“You didn’t say your brother was the Mind Flayer!!” Steve is focused on the guy on screen, the way he’s pushed back into a corner by the two guards while Powell stoops to check the goon’s pulse.

“I didn’t know you knew Fighters,” Max tosses back, smirking and smug now that she knows Billy’s alive.

“Is he alive?” Hopper asks, gripping the edge of the desk. “Brenner will have my ba-er,” he pauses and reconsiders when he looks at the kids, “head, he’ll have my _head_ on a pike if his property is dead before he can even retrieve it.”

Callahan says nothing which is answer enough. Steve bites at his lip, pulls it through his teeth. “But how did the guy get into Billy’s cell at all?” Steve asks, thrown that the Mind Flayer is the guy Steve’s been tasked to save. “Shouldn’t we be concerned about that? If he could get a portal anywhere, he decided to portal to kill Billy instead of, like, using it to get out of the Thunderdome?”

Everyone stops at that and looks at Steve. He feels like he made a dumb comment somehow, even though he’s just asking questions, but then Dustin’s smirking and Robin looks impressed, and Hopper looks at Steve like he’s seeing him for the first time.

“What?” Steve asks, pushing his hair behind his ear.

“Get me the gears before Brenner gets here,” Hopper answers instead, hat and jacket shucked off in favor of pushing his sleeves up and heading for the hall. “We gotta keep this by the books or he can demand a trial by combat.”

“Do you have a line to the palace?” Steve asks, still trying to work through all the moving pieces to put together the bigger picture. He’s never been good with puzzles, not in the way Dustin is, but there seems to be a lot that no one knows save for a select few people.

“Florence can patch you through out front,” Hopper tells him. “Kid, if you want to come with me, we can find your brother.”

Then he and Max are off, and Steve heads up front to meet Florence in the front office. Robin trails behind him, runs into Steve’s back when he stops abruptly.

“Hey, what gives, loser?!” Robin huffs, shoving at Steve’s shoulder, but when she glances over it, Robin finally understands why he stopped dead in his tracks.

Dr. Brenner is standing outside of the box office, robes clean, hair slicked back and shiny with product. The look he gives Steve makes him feel dirty all over, like he desperately needs time to scrub and cleanse his _soul_ in the hot springs deep in the caves surrounding Metropolis.

“Prince Steven, what a pleasant surprise!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the plot thickens... what do you think Brenner has planned?!
> 
> You can find me over at _lostnoise_ on tumblr.


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